Developing a just society based on equity and equal opportunities for all with respect for diversity.

Wednesday, May 13, 2015

ENJOY EVERY MOMENT!

By Jonathan Hunt

There
is a memory of my only previous excursion outside Europe that has really stuck
in my mind. I was on the Study India programme and a group of us had taken the
6 hour drive from Delhi to Agra to visit the Taj Mahal – that undisputed wonder
of the world. We arrived at dawn in search of peace, but needless to say we
were already part of a small army of camera-wielding warriors. After walking
through the gates one member of our group decided he’d seen enough of the work
of art and didn’t even make the pilgrimage down the path to stare obligingly
upon it. It was a choice that has always bemused me, yet at that moment his
apathy was not alien to me.

To put it bluntly, my initial confrontation was
thoroughly underwhelming. Perhaps I was just tired; perhaps I had seen too many
photos of it. But it just didn’t resonate with me. Had we not driven so far and
had we not set that dawn alarm, it would have been easy to walk around, take a
few photos and leave wondering what all the fuss was about. But I forced myself
to stay. I found a quieter spot and just sat and looked. By that point the sun
had risen up and was shining upon the side of the building I was studying. And
the more I looked, the more stunning it became. The marble flickered from milk
to cream and then to gold, glistening under the hazy dawn. Each intricate
detail etched into the stone looked like a wonder in its own right. The
symmetry of the building. The solidity that you could feel through your bare
feet. I sat there for about three hours before having to finally tear myself
away. I’m not sure what I thought about during that time, if anything, but it
is a memory I have most clarity about from my time in that crazy, marvellous
country. I cannot pretend I felt some enlightened urge to sit there; it was
brought on by disappointment more than anything. There had been no epiphany
about life or experience; I just really enjoyed it. But what I can realise now
is that for those three hours I managed to forget about time and myself and
simply live in the moment. It is something I have struggled to ever do again.

Dohi School Visit: The children were eager helpers when delivering donations

There
were several reasons why I applied for ICS. I have always fostered a
fascination for both our human and natural world and a desire to preserve and
develop both. The scheme seemed to provide a chance to connect with both people
and place, whilst knowing I was working towards something positive. I had wanted
to travel, but was struggling to consider what I planned to gain from it. So I
guess it gave my adventures some purpose. But most of all, I was probably
running away. From what, exactly? It is hard to see. I come from a loving
family and have friends who have always stood by me. I have my health and
independence. I excelled at school and, although my work ethic somewhat waned
at university, I left Liverpool with a proud 2.1. I had successfully balanced a
life of work and play and explored a city I came to love. Yet I left feeling
empty and detached; like I had always been searching for something I never
found. I convinced myself travel would fulfil me and set my sights on saving up
the funds. I worked in a pub that was buzzing and vibrant and with the best
bunch of staff anyone could ask for. Yet for those eighteen months I was simply
waiting to leave. I failed to truly connect with the beauty that was there and
let my frustrations boil over. I had planned to depart far sooner but there
were various factors that encouraged me to stay. I became torn between my
desires.

Despite finding new meaning in an old life, I was still fixated on
running away. It is only now that I have begun to appreciate exactly what it is
that I was running away from...simply my own thoughts. At every stage in my
life I have been waiting for something else; that next stage in my external
path. Something that wasn’t there, but that I was sure was what I needed; that
would fulfil me. When you go through most of your life in this mindset it
becomes near impossible to escape it. It was only after arriving in Ghana that
I began to understand this. I realised what I had failed to connect with and
the moments I had forgotten to live in. I had spent the best part of two years
waiting to escape and once I got here all I could think about was what I had
run away from. Thought had become an addiction that believed external desires
could provide its salvation.

In
this midst, however, was hope. One of my initial memories of the host home was
being greeted by a contingent of very shy but very curious little children.
Quickly they forgot their inhibitions and we proceeded to play, dance, sing and
laugh for two hours or more. The smiles on their faces I will never forget. The
happiness I felt is something that will touch me for a long time to come.
Breaking free from the habit of thought is the hardest thing I have ever
attempted. But since remembering once more what it feels like to truly live in
the moment it is something I am determined to do. And there is no place like
Tamale, like Ghana, to provide the platform to do so. Each morning when I
shower I try to feel, to hear, the gentle splash as I flick water from the
bucket to my body; the burst of life when I tip it up and drench myself in cold
water. In the taxi ride to work; taxis that seem to be strung together on sheer
hope and will; that clunk and grind with each motion; that I usher onwards out
of respect and admiration because they remind me that some things need not be
seen as broken. The children at a rural school whose faces lit up as we
unloaded a van of donated books, clothes and furniture. Who then, along with
their parents, hung on our every word as we spoke about the value of education
when so often they had been marginalised from it by lack of the simplest
resources. A right that they enjoy as a privilege and use each day as a direct
passage to life. The list of things I
have felt life in could go on...the first thunder storm of the season, outside with
my family as torrential rain lashed down and purple bolts crashed to the
ground; feeling the burn in my chest and hearing my feet pound the ground during
an evening run at the stadium; long bus journeys, absorbed in the views flashing
by; the colours and textures woven into every piece of fabric; a wander round
the market or a stroll through the village; even the cockroaches that guard the
toilet at night.

Nayoku Community Sensitisation: After exhausting all games with the children, running proved to be a popular last resort

It
is easy to be fascinated by only a limited portion of life. Recently some of us
were lucky enough to be gifted the chance to watch wild elephants bathing at a
watering hole in Mole National Park; an experience rightly incredible. Immediately
afterwards a butterfly fluttered gently alongside us, parading its beauty with
quiet grace and humility. Someone jovially asked, “Is it weird that I am as
fascinated by the butterfly as I was by the elephants?” It is a reflection with
a commendable motto and one I plan to uphold – to seek wonder and awe in as
much as you can. We should not look for what we are supposed to be fascinated
by, not decide beforehand what we think is beautiful, not set ourselves things
to find. Embrace everything and seek life in every moment. Everything around
you has a story; try to tell it. But do not always worry about telling your
own. Living your life as if it were a story to be told seems to bring only shallowness
and disappointment; those of others will always seem to contain more fire. The
mobile and the internet are wonderful inventions that can bring us closer
together in ways we could have never imagined. But they also threaten to pull
us apart; apart from each other, apart from nature and apart from ourselves.
There is a memorable line from the wonderful speech in Charlie Chaplin’s ‘The
Dictator’ where he says “We think too much and we feel too little. More than
machinery, we need humanity. More than cleverness, we need kindness and
gentleness.” In the battle for supremacy of thought, for peace in our relentless
minds, we can often forget what it means to be human; to be alive. It has
certainly been true of myself and I fear it is becoming true of many more.

There are too many of us distracted by the electronic devices in our pockets
that provide easy entertainment and instant updates. Too many people living
their lives in virtual worlds, their adventures in reality existing for the
purpose of an identity on social media. It is easy to spend your life inside
your head – worrying about your identity and your ego. We have become
blissfully ignorant of our surroundings, disconnected ourselves from true
interaction, in a bid to keep up with the demands of our thoughts. For too many
mobile phones have become the opium of thought, of insecurity, fear and
boredom. Pleasure for the ego that has an identity to uphold, rather than the
self that has life to nurture. It has taken until now to realise that for every
moment spent looking at my phone it is a moment in which I cannot appreciate
this beautiful country and its wonderful people; it is a moment that is lost. In
a further bid to confront this in my own behaviour I have decided upon a loose
rule when it comes to photo taking – to only photograph that which will conjure
up a memory and not that which will validate my travels to others. I will now
always try to live, experience and feel a place before snapping it. It is too
common to see tourists flocking to an exotic beach, smartphones at the ready,
clicking and tapping as they share their perfect lives to jealous onlookers. I
hope that I would always pause, breathe the sea air first, taste the salt on my
tongue, watch the rhythm of the waves as they roll onto the shore line and
listen to them crash against the rocks.It is easy to become so obsessed by what your life means to others that
you forget to live it yourself.

It
is hard to find the words to describe the lives of communities here without
sounding patronising or clichéd. I cannot pretend to know what they want but I
know how I have come to feel. Walking into the village that I am living in it
was easy to pass it off as poverty – the lack of furniture, the lack of
appliances, no running water. But is it so, or is it mere simplicity? I
probably have no right to decide. I am sure they could do without the power
cuts and would rather not have to walk to collect water, but for much else they
seem to have what they need. I am not able to say if I could live like this forever
but I have certainly not missed much. Each piece of technology my home here
lacks is one less distraction for living. Here is a community that talks, that
shares, that cares. A family that welcomed me and provided for me; always
finding something else to give and never afraid to reach inside to find it. The
children have no playstation, no computer, no mobile phone, yet the thirst for
life I have witnessed amongst them is astonishing. Energy and ingenuity that I
have never seen before. Their kindness comes as standard, their laughter always
abundant. They manage to sing as they shout and they rejoice when they run. I
have learnt from them in ways I could never have thought possible. Above all,
through living with them, I have learnt to see them not by what they are
lacking, but by the richness that their souls possess.

Sagnarigu: Where you can always be sure of meeting some friendly faces

So whilst of course I
have found my time here nothing short of incredible, it has begun to change me
not because of the experiences I have had, or pride in my achievements (all of
our achievements) or that extra line on my CV. It is because in this country,
over these few weeks, I have really learnt to appreciate the moment. I have
started to feel and connect after years inside my own head. I’ve understood how
thought can destroy your sense of life if it takes you away from where you
really are. Living in the moment does not mean forgetting the past or
discounting the future. It is about remembering to actually live rather than
waiting for the other life you are preparing for. I, for one, fell fowl in my
imagination of the perfect path through life. It was an obsession filled with
external ‘necessities’; that next step I was sure would complete me. But they
were just meaningless identities conjured up by my ego not my true self and
existed to only narrow my scope for fulfilment. As John Lennon once sang, “Life
is what happens to you while you are busy making other plans.”

So
now when I hear the giggles, shouts and screams of “Salaminga, hello”, “Salaminga,
how are you?” by throngs of waving children, I will always greet it with a
smile. It is just something else that reminds me that I am here. That I am
someone people are fascinated by and want to meet. How can one not be inspired
by children voicing such wonder? As shallow as it may be, as discriminatory as
it is, it is beautiful to know that you possess something that brings
excitement to somebody’s life. If you have that much worth, that much to offer,
through simply the colour of your skin, then just think what you have beneath
it.